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By o_Iridescent_o

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š»š’¶š“‡š“‡š“Ž š’«š‘œš“‰š“‰š‘’š“‡ š¹š’¶š“ƒš¹š’¾š’øš“‰š’¾š‘œš“ƒ: š’Ŗš’ž š‘€š’¶š’¾š“ƒ š’žš’½š’¶š“‡š’¶š’øš“‰š‘’š“‡ š™±šš˜šš˜šš” ššƒšš šš˜ šš˜šš ššƒšš‘ššŽ šš‚... More

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July 3rd, 1994
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August 25th, 1994

43 6 36
By o_Iridescent_o

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐸𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

Sleep... he deeply wanted to sleep.

The game had ended hours ago... a total beatdown of a game that had only ended in a close match because of the absurd point value given to one little golden ball. He never was all that fond of Quidditch... somehow a world filled with magic had created perhaps the most boring sport there was. Had the advantage of flight and animated balls that existed simply to hit people, and yet the game was completely and fundamentally broken.

Yeah... he had no interest in Quidditch... and yet there he was...

At a seemingly never-ending after party, filled with drunks and people who actually seemed to think that game was unlike anything in this world.

He had to keep up appearances, though, at least attend the party as a sign of good faith. After all, for the first time in many years... people seemed to finally be interested in relationships between nations. He had to keep that in mind... hold onto the good coming out of being there... but damn, he was hanging on by a thread...

"Fudge should be tapping out in the next hour or so." A man sat down beside him with a sigh, "You are going to want to catch him at least one more time tonight."

He... the boy who looked no older than a teenager, simply grumbled under his breath, grey eyes scanning over the party filled with politicians and elites of all kinds. "What I would kill to be the most important person in this room right now."

The man on the boy's other side just smiled into his drink... the MACUSA Ambassador, the oldest looking of the three, "Yes, well, at the moment, that is good old Fudge, so the rest of us are trapped until he decides it is socially acceptable to leave."

"Just have to remember that tomorrow morning, I will be back to my own bed...." The boy sipped his water, "I am tired of this damn continent."

The younger of the men chuckled, "You will get some time home before we are back in October for the Tournament. We are all going to need the break."

The Ambassador cut in absently, "And before you start complaining, it is nonnegotiable about attending the challenges. You will need the excuse of a lifetime to avoid making appearances. MACUSA's and your relations with the European leadership are fragile. This whole Tournament should be seen as a blessing for you."

The other man nodded, "It is also a good excuse to be around to keep an eye on The Marcellas...."

Blah, blah, blah... that is all the boy was hearing as the two older men began the same lectures he had been hearing for months. All going in one ear and out the other... he really wanted to just fucking sleep already.

Eyeing the Minister himself off in the center of the room, drinking and laughing joyfully with those around him... the boy figured he had some time to relax before going over to show the Minister more attention.

So, closing his eyes, he allowed himself a moment of at least mock rest. Doing his best to just focus on his own breathing...

In... and then out...

In... and then out...

His eyes flew open. Snapping to attention, back going rigid, face suddenly almost scarily serious. He met the eyes of the younger of the men, both of them seemingly in the same state... the Ambassador froze at the reactions of his two companions.

The air between the three was almost suffocating. The two that reacted first almost seemed to strain for something far in the distance. Trying to hear something that had not yet reached that of normal ears.

A scream rang through the air.

The boy was on his feet in a split second, his powerful stride pushing him through the partiers, his focus on that of the tent flap and that only. The room had silenced in an instant at the scream. Everyone stared in nothing but confusion as they attempted to make sense of it. Eyes locked on the boy as he approached the flap. Breaths held as they watched him push it aside...

The silence was quashed.

Screams and panic pounded their way into the quiet of the tent. The warm glow of the candles quickly replaced with the dark tint that hung in the air. The stench of alcohol was chased away by the smoke that wafted in.

As the politicians and elites stood in shock... the people outside were in a panic, running for safety.

"Vince! Go straight to our tent and grab everyone!" The boy barked the order before stepping outside, leaving behind the high class and jumping straight into the chaos.

He took in the view around him for a second. Watching as people ran around frantically, trampling over anything and everyone in the mad dash for the surrounding woods. Watching as the fire washed over tents like water, spreading so quickly in every direction you could never keep up. Watching the marching crowd off in the distance, chanting and rallying. Watching the four figures up in the air... two much smaller than the others, being contorted in ways that twisted the stomach.

The boy was jolted back as a fleeing woman rammed into his shoulder, sending her tumbling to the ground. Spinning to help her stand and regain balance, he watched her disappear back into the mass of people.

Then he turned back to the figures in the sky... and setting his jaw, he took off. In the blink of an eye... the boy gone, and a black wolf there. Running against the crowd.

~~~~~~

Iris jolted from her bed. Suddenly upright as her face set, her eyes locked in the direction she had heard it.

It. A sound that had yet to reach that of normal ears.

A scream.

She glanced at the sleeping figure across the room before silently climbing off her bed. Soundlessly leaving the room, she tucked her wand into the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

Her feet padded against the hardwood floors of the extended magic tent, carrying her into the sitting room. Her eyes first landed on the couch occupied by Theodore Nott, who had been invited to stay instead of heading home so late. His chest raised and fell in a steady pattern... he slept peacefully. So, next, Iris' eyes could only go to the exit of the tent.

She walked as light on her feet as she could, stepping around obstacles as quickly but as silently as possible. Not wanting to disturb the boy before she could confirm what she did or did not hear.

So step by step, she neared the exit and tightened the grip on her wand... Iris pushed through to the outside.

At first, it was nothing... just a silent night, nearly late enough for everyone to have finished celebrating and finally settle. Then she looked back in the direction she had heard it... and that was where things began to make sense.

Off not far in the distance, Iris could see the haunting glow of a fire, and slowly the screams were coming closer. Whatever panic was ensuing was slowly and surely coming their way. And if she really strained... really pushed herself... she could hear the chants and rallying in the distance... also growing louder.

Iris barged back into the tent, hurrying over to the couch first. Ripping the pillow out from under the boy before slamming it on his face. Already walking towards the bedrooms, she demanded over her shoulder, "Get up now!"

Theodore was startled awake, nearly yelling as he pushed the pillow off his face. But hearing Iris begin yelling at the girls... he seemed to realize that whatever was happening was important. So he rubbed at his face, standing to turn and follow after Iris before she rushed back into the main room, everyone else in tow.

"You all need to run into the woods and get Sally-Ann away."

No one understood what was happening. That much was evident by the shared confusion that lingered in each of their eyes. Watching blankly as Iris hadn't stopped moving, going around the room as she found her shoes and a jacket.

Sally-Ann was the one to ask, "And why do we need to do this?"

Iris picked up Theodore's discarded shoes, approaching him as she thrust them out, looking him straight in the eyes with something that was extremely uncharacteristic of the girl, "I need you to promise you will listen."

That look... was so... serious. It wasn't anger or fear or even nothing... it was just the look of someone who had set her mind on something. Who was lost to whatever had overcome her and thought of nothing else. So dead set serious that everyone else was really best going along. Because that was a look that only appeared when things were real.

So, Theodore took his shoes and just nodded. Silently promising to do as she said. But it did bring one question to mind, especially as she gave him one firm nod... leaving for the exit again, "And where are you going?"

Iris didn't answer, already out in the air... running towards the chaos, a wolf replacing her in seconds.

~~~~~~

At the center of this all, the cause for all this madness... were masked figures. Dressed in black and skull-like masks hiding their faces... they were impossible to identify. And that is always where trouble really begins.... People can be capable of the worst of behaviors when they can hide from any consequences. When they can act out however they please and just take off the mask to return to their daily lives.

It is a behavior that is hard to comprehend... just how innately cruel people really are. But the studies and real-life examples are there. The Stanford Prison Experiment, Rhythm 0, Concentration Camps.... A lack of consequences, anonymity, dehumanization, crowd behavior, power... so many things that can bring out the most... horrifying... side that lies deep within everyone.

There. At that moment, it was yet another example. The masked figures worked as a group to terrorize a muggle family... blood purists who viewed those poor, innocent people as less than dirt. They had the numbers to spur a sense of community, the anonymity to guarantee they would go unpunished, the power to do as they please, and all.... All of them believed that those muggles were nothing but a lesser species.

None of those cowards would admit to their views in any other setting. Admit that deep down, they want to torture and hurt... admit that they are cruel. And maybe some of them were just finding out this part of themselves in the moment... but that changes nothing.

Every single one of those masked figures was participating in what was no doubt a painful and traumatizing moment for that man, that woman, and those two children. Every single one was burning down tents. Every single one was tainting a good day with fear for everyone who ran to the woods.

How this group had formed for this demonstration was an interesting question to consider... but again, it changes nothing. Whether the drunken rally coming from shared beliefs being pushed to mind... or whether a planned effort at the largest gathering of Witches and Wizards there was... nothing changed.

A brave few, ministry officials, and even bystanders involved themselves in attempting to subdue the masked group. Trying to get a hold of the muggles still being held in the air. Containing the fire and saving as many tents and personal belongings as they could. Some directed the crowds that ran, preventing as much trampling as they could manage. And the real unlucky ones... well, they fought.

Flashes of light sparked from all directions. Shields flew up, and shouts rang through the night.

The boy was back to himself, wolf gone, as he shot spells back and forth with a group of the masked people. Two others beside him in the same fight. Wolves circled around, snapping at and herding off sections.

Anytime they made progress in containing any of them... the figures would vanish in thin air. Apparating away instead of facing any sort of punishment. But as more and more of the masked people chickened out of their rally, things could begin to settle. Perhaps this needless fight would end with everyone getting off free, but at least it could end.

The fight went on for seemingly an eternity, but slowly they were down to a group of twenty or so... the truly dedicated... or maybe the most idiotic of the group. The ones who would go down with their cause. Who would be proud of their display that, in the end, did nothing but bring needless chaos.

The boy sidestepped as he narrowly missed a blast of red sparks to the chest. He countered his own right back, "Diffindo!"

A large gash cut into the attacker's leg, and he crumpled to the ground with a scream of agony as immediately a wolf jumped on him. Pining that man down and keeping him there with a snarl.

The boy was still on high alert, even as he looked around to see the last of the masked figures crumple to the ground, surrounded by wizards and wolves alike. The ground surrounding him had been burned black, the effect of the fires leaving a scar on the world. The air was heavy, a haunting sort of presence from the smoke and impossible silence only broken by orders from Ministry Officials.

The fighting had been so spread out. Most were clustered together... but masked men and women had broken off, only to be chased down and dealt with all the same. Held down as far as a hundred feet from where the boy stood.

His eyes trailed over every figure in the furthest outreaches of where the fight had gone, eyes lingering particularly on the wolves. Guaranteeing that they had control over the masked people they subdued.

Then... he saw her.

A girl far off... staring right back at him. Hand clutching her wand, one of the idiots at her feet.

Both of them were too far away to make out any identifying features of the other. And yet, as the boy stared right back at her, you could tell some ounce of familiarity was eating away at his brain. Something about that girl seemed to captivate his whole mind. And as he loosened his grip on his wand... but still seemed so acutely ready to jump at any danger that could appear... something in the familiarity was both a sense of safety but also more of a reason to keep up a guard.

Something in that familiarity was a wave of a feeling the boy hadn't felt in so long... and could not be entirely explained... but he had almost on instinct taken a step towards her—

"Besides some minor injuries, everyone on our end is in good condition." The younger of the boy's companions from early had appeared behind him... briefly narrowing his eyes as the boy didn't turn back around immediately.

So he tried again, "Ryker."

The boy... Ryker finally broke from the indescribable trance, tearing his eyes from the girl and spinning to face the man. A venerability in his eyes... one that the man picked up.

"You okay?"

Ryker glanced back... just once, just to see that the girl and the figure that was at her feet were gone... as if just an illusion that had faded the moment he was brought back into reality. Yeah... he would just settle for an illusion... that was better to settle for than what had been pushing its way into his brain.

So hardening his face, Ryker gave one nod, putting an immediate end to whatever had overcome him. Because that boy was a leader...

He was someone who could not allow himself to be tricked by the ghosts of a girl he once knew. Not when he needed to be focused on the realities of the world. He could not be a boy haunted by the many wrongs life had given him. He could not even be a boy.

He had to be a leader.

Ryker Peverell.

~~~~~~

Iris couldn't feel anything but the sharp pain in her head. A pain so deep she couldn't even process how her knees folded under her. A pain so deep she could hardly hold herself up. Bent over as her forehead pushed into the grass. Fingers weaved into her hair as her hands pushed into her own skull.

She couldn't even bring herself to scream, silently doubled over in pain, everything in her wanting to yell away the pain... but unable to make a sound. Just her panicked breaths as her head both ripped itself apart and dealt with the surge of adrenaline from her fight or flight.

Her last memories before this immense pain being her stare down with the boy before her leg had been grabbed, and she had been apparated there.

There... something she had to all but force herself to try and take in. Fighting through the pain in the small way she could, she tried to pull herself back to awareness. Needing to be able to deal with the threat.

She heard him first. His grunts as he pushed himself to his own feet. His heavy steps as he neared her. His deep, blood-chilling chuckle as he kneeled in front of her.

Then she felt him. His hand grabbed a fistful of her hair. Pulling her head up to get a better look at. His breath fanning her face.

"Can't believe she was right about your reaction to apparition. The mighty little princess that nearly faints just apparating less than a mile." His voice grew sadistic, "Wonder if crossing the ocean would really split open that head of yours."

Iris clenched her jaw, fighting with everything in her to simply will her eyes open. Flinching to herself as even just the soft glow of the moon sent another jolt into her brain. But she preserved, gaze cold... not a single trace of fear as she glared at the man.

He didn't like that. The smirk at his lips turned into a sneer. He threw the girl back, ignoring the whimper as she landed hard. Standing tall, he quickly looked around, grabbing the two wands on the ground. His own and hers.

She tried to regain control over her body. But it was proving difficult. Her head still screaming at her as she supported herself on one arm, her other hand trying to find the strength to push herself up. She steeled herself as she found her voice, "Who the fuck are you?"

His smirk was back as he walked back over to the girl, "Almost hurt you can't remember me... but I guess it can be forgiven. Your head can't handle keeping your eyes open, let alone any sort of real work. I'm sure we will meet again someday, and you'll be able to make the connection."

He crouched just before her, irritably finding that cold look still in her eyes. Silently staring him down as she slowly pulled herself together. Just looking into her eyes, those dark eyes... you almost couldn't tell she was in any sort of pain. And he really did not like that.

"I find it almost so silly to just leave you here... but she wants to deal with you herself. Has to get some more things done before she can deal with you. But... you do need to die eventually." His smile grew sick as he lazily directed his wand her way. "I don't think it would be the end of the world to just kill you now."

Should she have shown some ounce of fear? She was without a wand, could hardly support her own weight... Iris was, in that moment, at his mercy. And maybe playing to his need to scare her would have provoked him less.

But no... if anything, the longer his threat sat in the air..., the more intense her glare had grown. Silently challenging the man... and that she had. His own face settled back into a sneer as he jolted, reaching to press his wand at her throat.

And that was his mistake.

Iris kicked a leg out, striking him in the chest with everything she had. He went tumbling backward, eyes wide with shock as he rolled over, gasping for breath. In the meantime, Iris shifted all her weight to her arm before reaching out her hand.

In the blink of an eye, her wand had found its way home, and it swung through the air in her grasp, a burst of fire waving through the crisp air. The harsh glow forced her to close her eyes, the heat so close it warmed her face.

And then a shout, "Iris!"

Out of seemingly nowhere, her friends burst through the trees into the clearing Iris laid. The fire gone, and their friend alone... the man vanished at the first sign of a real fight from the girl... having already lost once to her. So as she opened her eyes and looked around to find him... her friends made no mention of seeing him... he would just be an encounter left to her foggy memory.

Iris was surrounded on all ends, everyone talking all at once over each other, Valeria reaching out a hand to help her up. Iris did her best, managing to get to her feet before the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain flooded back in. Luckily before she could hit the ground, Theodore and Sally-Ann both managed to react in time to catch her.

Worried glances were shared as her face contorted in reaction to the pain, one of her hands flying back to her head. Theodore nodded to Sally, taking on her full weight before slowly dropping himself and Iris to the ground.

Iris pulled herself from Theodore's hold, closing her eyes as she slowly pulled herself together. Fighting through the pain instead of letting it naturally fix itself. Everyone else just left to watch with heavy minds... once again, no idea what would even begin to help.

Her breathing had begun to even, her hold on her head lessening. She was coming back to herself when the distance screams broke the quiet in the night air. So in the most Iris of ways, she was immediately brought back to full attention.

Screams... danger, always pushing her through even the worst of things. She glanced at Theodore's face, being he was right next to her and still on the ground at her level... and she saw his eyes locked on the sky above... an almost green glow reflected in the brown.

"Is that...." Tracey trailed off, a waver in her voice.

Iris's head raised... her gaze working its way around all her friends. Valeria looked up with a clenched jaw, narrowed eyes... anger. Tracey looked... defeated... sad. Sally was the slightest bit fascinated... no idea what she was looking up at. Jane and Theodore... well, they both were impossible to understand, but the closest guess would be apathy... apathy fueled by bad memories.

With time... Iris could drag her gaze up to the sky.

"The Dark Mark."

Up in the clouds were thousands of emerald stars, creating something that just left that heavy feeling in the back of your head. A skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. The emerald stars were like fireworks but without the explosion, slowly fading the higher they went, leaving behind a green smoke.

Sally-Ann scrunched together her eyebrows, "What is that exactly?"

No one spoke at first... everyone lost to the emotions and thoughts running through their heads. Iris... Iris was the only one who could eventually make the words, "The Death Eaters... used to leave that as a mark after they had just killed in the area.... It's the mark of those that believe in the most extreme of blood purity. It's the mark of a group that wants all muggles and muggle-borns dead.

"It's Voldemort's mark."

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